“Iguess…” I trail off, not completely sure how to put my feelingsinto words. I’m worried it’ll sound silly or strange to havereached this age and still be so uncertain about so many things.Leland glances at me, eyebrows raised slightly and a gentle smilegracing his face.
“Iguess I always thought I’d find a serious career someday,” I say.“It’s why I’ve mostly had temp jobs all these years; I thoughttrying new things would show me where my strengths lie and what Ienjoy doing. I figured I’d find something I was truly passionateabout, something I could not only stick with but also excel at. Myfriends all have that. And yet here I am, about to turnthirty-five, and I don’t even have a job, let alone acareer.”
From the corner ofmy eye, I see Leland slowly bobbing his head. The park is quietexcept for the sound of birds and the crunching of fallen leavesunder our feet.
“Plentyof people don’t go the career route,” he says. “And lots of peoplewhohavea careeraren’t necessarily passionate about what they’re doing. I think themajority of people probably work out of necessity, whether it’s acareer or a job, and whether they love it or hate it. As forpassion and doing something you’re interested in, that’s whathobbies are for if you’re not lucky enough to work doing somethingyou love.”
I make a hum ofagreement. “True.” Evie and Hollie are passionate about what theydo, while Louisa has built a career as a virtual assistant so shecan work from home. She enjoys it and she’s good at it, but animalsare her true love, which is why she volunteers at the local animalshelter whenever she can until she lives somewhere that allows forpets of her own.
“Yousaid you thought your temp jobs would help you figure things out,right?” Leland asks. “You must know by now what you’re good at andenjoy doing versus what you’d rather not do.”
I ponder this fora moment. “I’m not great with numbers. I’m a decent writer, butother than the copywriting temp jobs I’ve done, I’m not sure Iwould want to pursue writing as a career. I can’t see myself doingany sort of telecommunications work, even though I’ve been told I’mgood on the phone and I’ve enjoyed the receptionist jobs I’vehad.”
“Okay.Are you good with people?”
“Ithink so, yeah,” I say. “In certain situations, anyway.”
“So ifyou worked at FandomTown, you’d have the best of both worlds:something you’re good at that you also enjoy. Besides all thebehind-the-scenes and admin stuff she has to deal with, Felicitysays her job is like getting to come to work and play allday.”
I let out a smalllaugh. “That does sound like fun.”
Leland bumps myshoulder again. This time, it’s paired with a devilish grin. “Thinkabout it, Stels.”
His phone buzzesfrom his pocket, but he ignores it. “You can check that, I don’tmind,” I tell him.
He gives me arueful smile. “I probably should. Felicity’s probably wonderingwhere I am.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and unlocks thescreen. After a few beats of silence, he lets out a huffing sound.“Well, it’s officially on.”
At my confusedlook, he shakes his head. “Fee says she accidentally let it slip toour mom that I’m seeing someone.”
“Accidentally or accidentally-on-purpose?”
He huffs again. “Iwas wondering that too. Our mother has been in real Mom Mode sincewe moved back to Bellevue. It doesn’t help that she recentlyretired and is still trying to figure out what to do with all hernewfound free time. She was probably on my sister’s case aboutsomething and Felicity threw that out as a distraction. Or shecould have been flustered and legitimately let it slip. Either way,I hope you’re prepared to put this fake dating plan intoaction.”
BeforeI can say anything, a series of melodic chimes indicates anincoming call on his phone. He angles the screen toward me so I cansee the wordMomon the screen.
“Wow,she didn’t waste any time,” I say.
We both stare atthe screen until it goes black. “She’ll call back again inapproximately five seconds,” Leland says. “And she’ll want to knowevery detail, plus when she can meet you.”
“Won’tshe think it’s a bit soon for us to have a ‘meet the parents’moment?” My parents wouldn’t expect to meet anyone I was datinguntil I deemed it serious enough.
“No,because technically shehasmet you,” he says. “Briefly and nearly twentyyears ago, but still. Plus you’re Wesley’s sister and she lovesWes.”
His phone goes offagain and he gives me a look that says ‘see?’. “I can put her off.Tell her I’m dating without telling her who you are, unlessFelicity already mentioned it. Even then, I could tell her it’s newand we want time to ourselves. She’ll at least be placated knowingI’m seeing someone.”
Despite the facthis phone continues to ring in his hand, his words are slow andeven. There’s no expectation in his expression or tone. I’m certainhe’d respect whatever I told him, even if it was that I’m not readyto take our ruse as far as meeting his mom.
I’vebecome so used to the people I date expecting things from me—to beavailable when it’s convenient for them, to go on dateswheretheywantto, to do the thingsthey’reinterested in. Leland and I may only be pretendingto date, but he’s already showing me how I’ve twisted myself to fitinto what works for other people without taking my own desires andinterests into account. How I’ve settled for less and acceptedthat’s how things are.
The phone goessilent. Leland lifts his gaze from the dark screen, giving me asweet, patient smile.
Iswallow hard, reminding myself this is just a game and games aresupposed to be fun. Leland helped me the other night when I neededit, and now it’s my turn to helphim. My parents are far fromoverbearing, but I’ve seen how frazzled Evie gets when her momthinks she should have more say in her life.
“Wesleyused to love going to your place for dinner,” I say. “He alwayssaid your mom was an amazing cook.”
Leland’s confused expression at my seemingly random change oftopic makes me want to laugh. “Sheisan amazing cook. Having Mom’s homecooking again has been one of the best perks of being back intown.”
“Do youthink you can wrangle a home-cooked meal for our first meeting withher?” I ask.
